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    <title>1. CHAPTER II</title>
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    <div class="chapter" id="id1037613"><h2>1. CHAPTER II</h2>


<p id="id1037619"><span id="id576998"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->

No misfortune occurred, again to prevent the ball.  The day approached,
the day arrived; and after a morning of some anxious watching,
Frank Churchill, in all the certainty of his own self, reached Randalls
before dinner, and every thing was safe.
</p>

<p id="id1037626"><span id="id577009"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
No second meeting had there yet been between him and Emma. 
The room at the Crown was to witness it;—but it would be better
than a common meeting in a crowd.  Mr. Weston had been so very
earnest in his entreaties for her arriving there as soon as possible
after themselves, for the purpose of taking her opinion as to the
propriety and comfort of the rooms before any other persons came,
that she could not refuse him, and must therefore spend some quiet
interval in the young man’s company.  She was to convey Harriet,
and they drove to the Crown in good time, the Randalls party just
sufficiently before them.
</p>

<p id="id1037569"><span id="id577017"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
Frank Churchill seemed to have been on the watch; and though
he did not say much, his eyes declared that he meant to have
a delightful evening.  They all walked about together, to see
that every thing was as it should be; and within a few minutes
were joined by the contents of another carriage, which Emma
could not hear the sound of at first, without great surprize. 
“So unreasonably early!” she was going to exclaim; but she presently
found that it was a family of old friends, who were coming, like herself,
by particular desire, to help Mr. Weston’s judgment; and they were
so very closely followed by another carriage of cousins, who had been
entreated to come early with the same distinguishing earnestness,
on the same errand, that it seemed as if half the company might
soon be collected together for the purpose of preparatory inspection.
</p>

<p id="id1037632"><span id="id577022"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
Emma perceived that her taste was not the only taste on which
Mr. Weston depended, and felt, that to be the favourite and
intimate of a man who had so many intimates and confidantes,
was not the very first distinction in the scale of vanity. 
She liked his open manners, but a little less of open-heartedness
would have made him a higher character.—General benevolence,
but not general friendship, made a man what he ought to be.—
She could fancy such a man.  The whole party walked about,
and looked, and praised again; and then, having nothing else to do,
formed a sort of half-circle round the fire, to observe in their
various modes, till other subjects were started, that, though May,
a fire in the evening was still very pleasant.
</p>

<p id="id1037635"><span id="id577028"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
Emma found that it was not Mr. Weston’s fault that the number
of privy councillors was not yet larger.  They had stopped
at Mrs. Bates’s door to offer the use of their carriage,
but the aunt and niece were to be brought by the Eltons.
</p>

<p id="id1037642"><span id="id577044"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
Frank was standing by her, but not steadily; there was a restlessness,
which shewed a mind not at ease.  He was looking about, he was going
to the door, he was watching for the sound of other carriages,—
impatient to begin, or afraid of being always near her.
</p>

<p id="id1037652"><span id="id577053"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
Mrs. Elton was spoken of.  “I think she must be here soon,” said he. 
“I have a great curiosity to see Mrs. Elton, I have heard so much
of her.  It cannot be long, I think, before she comes.”
</p>

<p id="id1037660"><span id="id577064"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
A carriage was heard.  He was on the move immediately;
but coming back, said,
</p>

<p id="id1037645"><span id="id577071"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
“I am forgetting that I am not acquainted with her.  I have never seen
either Mr. or Mrs. Elton.  I have no business to put myself forward.”
</p>

<p id="id1037674"><span id="id577083"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
Mr. and Mrs. Elton appeared; and all the smiles and the proprieties passed.
</p>

<p id="id1037680"><span id="id577092"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
“But Miss Bates and Miss Fairfax!” said Mr. Weston, looking about. 
“We thought you were to bring them.”
</p>

<p id="id1037687"><span id="id577102"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
The mistake had been slight.  The carriage was sent for them now. 
Emma longed to know what Frank’s first opinion of Mrs. Elton
might be; how he was affected by the studied elegance of her dress,
and her smiles of graciousness.  He was immediately qualifying
himself to form an opinion, by giving her very proper attention,
after the introduction had passed.
</p>

<p id="id1037690"><span id="id577110"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
In a few minutes the carriage returned.—Somebody talked of rain.—
“I will see that there are umbrellas, sir,” said Frank to his father: 
“Miss Bates must not be forgotten:”  and away he went.  Mr. Weston
was following; but Mrs. Elton detained him, to gratify him by her
opinion of his son; and so briskly did she begin, that the young
man himself, though by no means moving slowly, could hardly be out
of hearing.
</p>

<p id="id1037693"><span id="id577116"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
“A very fine young man indeed, Mr. Weston.  You know I candidly told
you I should form my own opinion; and I am happy to say that I am
extremely pleased with him.—You may believe me.  I never compliment. 
I think him a very handsome young man, and his manners are precisely
what I like and approve—so truly the gentleman, without the least
conceit or puppyism.  You must know I have a vast dislike to puppies—
quite a horror of them.  They were never tolerated at Maple Grove. 
Neither Mr. Suckling nor me had ever any patience with them; and we
used sometimes to say very cutting things!  Selina, who is mild almost
to a fault, bore with them much better.”
</p>

<p id="id1037696"><span id="id577122"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
While she talked of his son, Mr. Weston’s attention was chained;
but when she got to Maple Grove, he could recollect that there were
ladies just arriving to be attended to, and with happy smiles must
hurry away.
</p>

<p id="id1037700"><span id="id577136"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
Mrs. Elton turned to Mrs. Weston.  “I have no doubt of its being
our carriage with Miss Bates and Jane.  Our coachman and horses are
so extremely expeditious!—I believe we drive faster than any body.—
What a pleasure it is to send one’s carriage for a friend!—
I understand you were so kind as to offer, but another time it
will be quite unnecessary.  You may be very sure I shall always
take care of them.”
</p>

<p id="id1037707"><span id="id577142"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
Miss Bates and Miss Fairfax, escorted by the two gentlemen,
walked into the room; and Mrs. Elton seemed to think it as much
her duty as Mrs. Weston’s to receive them.  Her gestures and
movements might be understood by any one who looked on like Emma;
but her words, every body’s words, were soon lost under the
incessant flow of Miss Bates, who came in talking, and had not
finished her speech under many minutes after her being admitted
into the circle at the fire.  As the door opened she was heard,
</p>

<p id="id1037667"><span id="id577151"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
“So very obliging of you!—No rain at all.  Nothing to signify. 
I do not care for myself.  Quite thick shoes.  And Jane declares—
Well!—(as soon as she was within the door) Well!  This is brilliant
indeed!—This is admirable!—Excellently contrived, upon my word. 
Nothing wanting.  Could not have imagined it.—So well lighted up!—
Jane, Jane, look!—did you ever see any thing?  Oh!  Mr. Weston,
you must really have had Aladdin’s lamp.  Good Mrs. Stokes
would not know her own room again.  I saw her as I came in;
she was standing in the entrance.  ‘Oh!  Mrs. Stokes,’ said I—
but I had not time for more.”  She was now met by Mrs. Weston.—
“Very well, I thank you, ma’am. I hope you are quite well. 
Very happy to hear it.  So afraid you might have a headach!—
seeing you pass by so often, and knowing how much trouble you must have. 
Delighted to hear it indeed.  Ah! dear Mrs. Elton, so obliged
to you for the carriage!—excellent time.  Jane and I quite ready. 
Did not keep the horses a moment.  Most comfortable carriage.—
Oh! and I am sure our thanks are due to you, Mrs. Weston, on that score. 
Mrs. Elton had most kindly sent Jane a note, or we should have been.—
But two such offers in one day!—Never were such neighbours. 
I said to my mother, ‘Upon my word, ma’am—.’  Thank you, my mother
is remarkably well.  Gone to Mr. Woodhouse’s. I made her take
her shawl—for the evenings are not warm—her large new shawl—
Mrs. Dixon’s wedding-present.—So kind of her to think of my mother! 
Bought at Weymouth, you know—Mr. Dixon’s choice.  There were
three others, Jane says, which they hesitated about some time. 
Colonel Campbell rather preferred an olive.  My dear Jane,
are you sure you did not wet your feet?—It was but a drop or two,
but I am so afraid:—but Mr. Frank Churchill was so extremely—
and there was a mat to step upon—I shall never forget his
extreme politeness.—Oh!  Mr. Frank Churchill, I must tell you
my mother’s spectacles have never been in fault since; the rivet
never came out again.  My mother often talks of your good-nature.
Does not she, Jane?—Do not we often talk of Mr. Frank Churchill?—
Ah! here’s Miss Woodhouse.—Dear Miss Woodhouse, how do you do?—
Very well I thank you, quite well.  This is meeting quite in fairy-land!—
Such a transformation!—Must not compliment, I know (eyeing Emma
most complacently)—that would be rude—but upon my word, Miss Woodhouse,
you do look—how do you like Jane’s hair?—You are a judge.—
She did it all herself.  Quite wonderful how she does her hair!—
No hairdresser from London I think could.—Ah! Dr. Hughes I declare—
and Mrs. Hughes.  Must go and speak to Dr. and Mrs. Hughes for
a moment.—How do you do?  How do you do?—Very well, I thank you. 
This is delightful, is not it?—Where’s dear Mr. Richard?—
Oh! there he is.  Don’t disturb him.  Much better employed talking
to the young ladies.  How do you do, Mr. Richard?—I saw you the
other day as you rode through the town—Mrs. Otway, I protest!—
and good Mr. Otway, and Miss Otway and Miss Caroline.—Such a host
of friends!—and Mr. George and Mr. Arthur!—How do you do?  How do
you all do?—Quite well, I am much obliged to you.  Never better.—
Don’t I hear another carriage?—Who can this be?—very likely the
worthy Coles.—Upon my word, this is charming to be standing about
among such friends!  And such a noble fire!—I am quite roasted. 
No coffee, I thank you, for me—never take coffee.—A little tea
if you please, sir, by and bye,—no hurry—Oh! here it comes. 
Every thing so good!”
</p>

<p id="id1037714"><span id="id577156"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
Frank Churchill returned to his station by Emma; and as soon as Miss
Bates was quiet, she found herself necessarily overhearing the
discourse of Mrs. Elton and Miss Fairfax, who were standing a little
way behind her.—He was thoughtful.  Whether he were overhearing too,
she could not determine.  After a good many compliments to Jane
on her dress and look, compliments very quietly and properly taken,
Mrs. Elton was evidently wanting to be complimented herself—
and it was, “How do you like my gown?—How do you like my trimming?—
How has Wright done my hair?”—with many other relative questions,
all answered with patient politeness.  Mrs. Elton then said,
“Nobody can think less of dress in general than I do—but upon such
an occasion as this, when every body’s eyes are so much upon me,
and in compliment to the Westons—who I have no doubt are giving
this ball chiefly to do me honour—I would not wish to be inferior
to others.  And I see very few pearls in the room except mine.—
So Frank Churchill is a capital dancer, I understand.—We shall see
if our styles suit.—A fine young man certainly is Frank Churchill. 
I like him very well.”
</p>

<p id="id1037717"><span id="id577166"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
At this moment Frank began talking so vigorously, that Emma could
not but imagine he had overheard his own praises, and did not want
to hear more;—and the voices of the ladies were drowned for a while,
till another suspension brought Mrs. Elton’s tones again distinctly
forward.—Mr. Elton had just joined them, and his wife was exclaiming,
</p>

<p id="id1037720"><span id="id577171"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
“Oh! you have found us out at last, have you, in our seclusion?—
I was this moment telling Jane, I thought you would begin to be
impatient for tidings of us.”
</p>

<p id="id1037724"><span id="id577181"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
“Jane!“—repeated Frank Churchill, with a look of surprize and displeasure.—
”That is easy—but Miss Fairfax does not disapprove it, I suppose.“
</p>

<p id="id1037737"><span id="id577193"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
“How do you like Mrs. Elton?” said Emma in a whisper.
</p>

<p id="id1037712"><span id="id577202"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
“Not at all.”
</p>

<p id="id1037744"><span id="id577209"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
“You are ungrateful.”
</p>

<p id="id1037747"><span id="id577217"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
“Ungrateful!—What do you mean?”  Then changing from a frown to
a smile—“No, do not tell me—I do not want to know what you mean.—
Where is my father?—When are we to begin dancing?”
</p>

<p id="id1037756"><span id="id577231"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
Emma could hardly understand him; he seemed in an odd humour. 
He walked off to find his father, but was quickly back again with both
Mr. and Mrs. Weston.  He had met with them in a little perplexity,
which must be laid before Emma.  It had just occurred to Mrs. Weston
that Mrs. Elton must be asked to begin the ball; that she would
expect it; which interfered with all their wishes of giving Emma
that distinction.—Emma heard the sad truth with fortitude.
</p>

<p id="id1037749"><span id="id577237"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
“And what are we to do for a proper partner for her?” said Mr. Weston. 
“She will think Frank ought to ask her.”
</p>

<p id="id1037763"><span id="id577249"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
Frank turned instantly to Emma, to claim her former promise;
and boasted himself an engaged man, which his father looked his most
perfect approbation of—and it then appeared that Mrs. Weston was
wanting him to dance with Mrs. Elton himself, and that their business
was to help to persuade him into it, which was done pretty soon.—
Mr. Weston and Mrs. Elton led the way, Mr. Frank Churchill and Miss
Woodhouse followed.  Emma must submit to stand second to Mrs. Elton,
though she had always considered the ball as peculiarly for her. 
It was almost enough to make her think of marrying.  Mrs. Elton had
undoubtedly the advantage, at this time, in vanity completely gratified;
for though she had intended to begin with Frank Churchill, she could
not lose by the change.  Mr. Weston might be his son’s superior.—
In spite of this little rub, however, Emma was smiling with enjoyment,
delighted to see the respectable length of the set as it was forming,
and to feel that she had so many hours of unusual festivity before her.—
She was more disturbed by Mr. Knightley’s not dancing than by any
thing else.—There he was, among the standers-by, where he ought not
to be; he ought to be dancing,—not classing himself with the husbands,
and fathers, and whist-players, who were pretending to feel an interest
in the dance till their rubbers were made up,—so young as he looked!—
He could not have appeared to greater advantage perhaps anywhere,
than where he had placed himself.  His tall, firm, upright figure,
among the bulky forms and stooping shoulders of the elderly men,
was such as Emma felt must draw every body’s eyes; and, excepting her
own partner, there was not one among the whole row of young men
who could be compared with him.—He moved a few steps nearer,
and those few steps were enough to prove in how gentlemanlike
a manner, with what natural grace, he must have danced, would he
but take the trouble.—Whenever she caught his eye, she forced him
to smile; but in general he was looking grave.  She wished he could
love a ballroom better, and could like Frank Churchill better.—
He seemed often observing her.  She must not flatter herself that he
thought of her dancing, but if he were criticising her behaviour,
she did not feel afraid.  There was nothing like flirtation between
her and her partner.  They seemed more like cheerful, easy friends,
than lovers.  That Frank Churchill thought less of her than he had done,
was indubitable.
</p>

<p id="id1037761"><span id="id577258"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
The ball proceeded pleasantly.  The anxious cares, the incessant
attentions of Mrs. Weston, were not thrown away.  Every body
seemed happy; and the praise of being a delightful ball,
which is seldom bestowed till after a ball has ceased to be,
was repeatedly given in the very beginning of the existence of this. 
Of very important, very recordable events, it was not more productive
than such meetings usually are.  There was one, however, which Emma
thought something of.—The two last dances before supper were begun,
and Harriet had no partner;—the only young lady sitting down;—
and so equal had been hitherto the number of dancers, that how there
could be any one disengaged was the wonder!—But Emma’s wonder
lessened soon afterwards, on seeing Mr. Elton sauntering about. 
He would not ask Harriet to dance if it were possible to be avoided: 
she was sure he would not—and she was expecting him every moment to
escape into the card-room.
</p>

<p id="id1037774"><span id="id577262"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
Escape, however, was not his plan.  He came to the part of the room
where the sitters-by were collected, spoke to some, and walked about
in front of them, as if to shew his liberty, and his resolution
of maintaining it.  He did not omit being sometimes directly
before Miss Smith, or speaking to those who were close to her.—
Emma saw it.  She was not yet dancing; she was working her way
up from the bottom, and had therefore leisure to look around,
and by only turning her head a little she saw it all.  When she was
half-way up the set, the whole group were exactly behind her, and she
would no longer allow her eyes to watch; but Mr. Elton was so near,
that she heard every syllable of a dialogue which just then took
place between him and Mrs. Weston; and she perceived that his wife,
who was standing immediately above her, was not only listening also,
but even encouraging him by significant glances.—The kind-hearted,
gentle Mrs. Weston had left her seat to join him and say, “Do not
you dance, Mr. Elton?” to which his prompt reply was, “Most readily,
Mrs. Weston, if you will dance with me.”
</p>

<p id="id1037777"><span id="id577268"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
“Me!—oh! no—I would get you a better partner than myself. 
I am no dancer.”
</p>

<p id="id1037783"><span id="id577278"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
“If Mrs. Gilbert wishes to dance,” said he, “I shall have great pleasure,
I am sure—for, though beginning to feel myself rather an old married man,
and that my dancing days are over, it would give me very great
pleasure at any time to stand up with an old friend like Mrs. Gilbert.”
</p>

<p id="id1037791"><span id="id577285"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
“Mrs. Gilbert does not mean to dance, but there is a young lady
disengaged whom I should be very glad to see dancing—Miss Smith.” 
“Miss Smith!—oh!—I had not observed.—You are extremely obliging—
and if I were not an old married man.—But my dancing days are over,
Mrs. Weston.  You will excuse me.  Any thing else I should be most happy
to do, at your command—but my dancing days are over.”
</p>

<p id="id1037794"><span id="id577292"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
Mrs. Weston said no more; and Emma could imagine with what
surprize and mortification she must be returning to her seat. 
This was Mr. Elton! the amiable, obliging, gentle Mr. Elton.—
She looked round for a moment; he had joined Mr. Knightley at a
little distance, and was arranging himself for settled conversation,
while smiles of high glee passed between him and his wife.
</p>

<p id="id1037784"><span id="id577301"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
She would not look again.  Her heart was in a glow, and she feared
her face might be as hot.
</p>

<p id="id1037801"><span id="id577307"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
In another moment a happier sight caught her;—Mr. Knightley
leading Harriet to the set!—Never had she been more surprized,
seldom more delighted, than at that instant.  She was all pleasure
and gratitude, both for Harriet and herself, and longed to be
thanking him; and though too distant for speech, her countenance
said much, as soon as she could catch his eye again.
</p>

<p id="id1037799"><span id="id577314"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
His dancing proved to be just what she had believed it,
extremely good; and Harriet would have seemed almost too lucky,
if it had not been for the cruel state of things before, and for
the very complete enjoyment and very high sense of the distinction
which her happy features announced.  It was not thrown away on her,
she bounded higher than ever, flew farther down the middle,
and was in a continual course of smiles.
</p>

<p id="id1037810"><span id="id577327"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
Mr. Elton had retreated into the card-room, looking (Emma trusted)
very foolish.  She did not think he was quite so hardened as his wife,
though growing very like her;—she spoke some of her feelings,
by observing audibly to her partner,
</p>

<p id="id1037814"><span id="id577345"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
“Knightley has taken pity on poor little Miss Smith!—Very goodnatured,
I declare.”
</p>

<p id="id1037826"><span id="id577352"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
Supper was announced.  The move began; and Miss Bates might be
heard from that moment, without interruption, till her being
seated at table and taking up her spoon.
</p>

<p id="id1037812"><span id="id577361"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
“Jane, Jane, my dear Jane, where are you?—Here is your tippet. 
Mrs. Weston begs you to put on your tippet.  She says she is afraid
there will be draughts in the passage, though every thing has
been done—One door nailed up—Quantities of matting—My dear Jane,
indeed you must.  Mr. Churchill, oh! you are too obliging! 
How well you put it on!—so gratified!  Excellent dancing indeed!—
Yes, my dear, I ran home, as I said I should, to help grandmama
to bed, and got back again, and nobody missed me.—I set off without
saying a word, just as I told you.  Grandmama was quite well,
had a charming evening with Mr. Woodhouse, a vast deal of chat,
and backgammon.—Tea was made downstairs, biscuits and baked apples
and wine before she came away:  amazing luck in some of her throws: 
and she inquired a great deal about you, how you were amused,
and who were your partners.  ‘Oh!’ said I, ‘I shall not forestall Jane;
I left her dancing with Mr. George Otway; she will love to tell you
all about it herself to-morrow: her first partner was Mr. Elton,
I do not know who will ask her next, perhaps Mr. William Cox.’ 
My dear sir, you are too obliging.—Is there nobody you would
not rather?—I am not helpless.  Sir, you are most kind.  Upon my word,
Jane on one arm, and me on the other!—Stop, stop, let us stand
a little back, Mrs. Elton is going; dear Mrs. Elton, how elegant
she looks!—Beautiful lace!—Now we all follow in her train. 
Quite the queen of the evening!—Well, here we are at the passage. 
Two steps, Jane, take care of the two steps.  Oh! no, there is
but one.  Well, I was persuaded there were two.  How very odd! 
I was convinced there were two, and there is but one.  I never saw any
thing equal to the comfort and style—Candles everywhere.—I was telling
you of your grandmama, Jane,—There was a little disappointment.—
The baked apples and biscuits, excellent in their way, you know;
but there was a delicate fricassee of sweetbread and some asparagus
brought in at first, and good Mr. Woodhouse, not thinking the
asparagus quite boiled enough, sent it all out again.  Now there
is nothing grandmama loves better than sweetbread and asparagus—
so she was rather disappointed, but we agreed we would not speak of it
to any body, for fear of its getting round to dear Miss Woodhouse,
who would be so very much concerned!—Well, this is brilliant! 
I am all amazement! could not have supposed any thing!—Such
elegance and profusion!—I have seen nothing like it since—
Well, where shall we sit? where shall we sit?  Anywhere, so that
Jane is not in a draught.  Where I sit is of no consequence. 
Oh! do you recommend this side?—Well, I am sure, Mr. Churchill—
only it seems too good—but just as you please.  What you direct
in this house cannot be wrong.  Dear Jane, how shall we ever
recollect half the dishes for grandmama?  Soup too!  Bless me! 
I should not be helped so soon, but it smells most excellent, and I
cannot help beginning.”
</p>

<p id="id1037837"><span id="id577368"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
Emma had no opportunity of speaking to Mr. Knightley till
after supper; but, when they were all in the ballroom again,
her eyes invited him irresistibly to come to her and be thanked. 
He was warm in his reprobation of Mr. Elton’s conduct; it had been
unpardonable rudeness; and Mrs. Elton’s looks also received the due
share of censure.
</p>

<p id="id1037834"><span id="id577379"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
“They aimed at wounding more than Harriet,” said he.  “Emma, why
is it that they are your enemies?”
</p>

<p id="id1037841"><span id="id577376"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
He looked with smiling penetration; and, on receiving
no answer, added, “She ought not to be angry with you, I suspect,
whatever he may be.—To that surmise, you say nothing, of course;
but confess, Emma, that you did want him to marry Harriet.”
</p>

<p id="id1037845"><span id="id577393"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
“I did,” replied Emma, “and they cannot forgive me.”
</p>

<p id="id1037854"><span id="id577401"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
He shook his head; but there was a smile of indulgence with it,
and he only said,
</p>

<p id="id1037862"><span id="id577409"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
“I shall not scold you.  I leave you to your own reflections.”
</p>

<p id="id1037857"><span id="id577419"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
“Can you trust me with such flatterers?—Does my vain spirit ever
tell me I am wrong?”
</p>

<p id="id1037874"><span id="id577429"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
“Not your vain spirit, but your serious spirit.—If one leads
you wrong, I am sure the other tells you of it.”
</p>

<p id="id1037869"><span id="id577440"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
“I do own myself to have been completely mistaken in Mr. Elton. 
There is a littleness about him which you discovered, and which I
did not:  and I was fully convinced of his being in love with Harriet. 
It was through a series of strange blunders!”
</p>

<p id="id1037889"><span id="id577447"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
“And, in return for your acknowledging so much, I will do you the justice
to say, that you would have chosen for him better than he has chosen for
himself.—Harriet Smith has some first-rate qualities, which Mrs. Elton
is totally without.  An unpretending, single-minded, artless girl—
infinitely to be preferred by any man of sense and taste to such
a woman as Mrs. Elton.  I found Harriet more conversable than I expected.”
</p>

<p id="id1037892"><span id="id577454"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
Emma was extremely gratified.—They were interrupted by the bustle
of Mr. Weston calling on every body to begin dancing again.
</p>

<p id="id1037900"><span id="id577466"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
“Come Miss Woodhouse, Miss Otway, Miss Fairfax, what are you all doing?—
Come Emma, set your companions the example.  Every body is lazy! 
Every body is asleep!”
</p>

<p id="id1037908"><span id="id577477"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
“I am ready,” said Emma, “whenever I am wanted.”
</p>

<p id="id1037882"><span id="id577486"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
“Whom are you going to dance with?” asked Mr. Knightley.
</p>

<p id="id1037918"><span id="id577496"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
She hesitated a moment, and then replied, “With you, if you will
ask me.”
</p>

<p id="id1037925"><span id="id577506"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
“Will you?” said he, offering his hand.
</p>

<p id="id1037929"><span id="id577514"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
“Indeed I will.  You have shewn that you can dance, and you know we
are not really so much brother and sister as to make it at all improper.”
</p>

<p id="id1037938"><span id="id577525"><!--anchor--></span><!--after-->
“Brother and sister! no, indeed.”
</p>



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